


Her Favorite Executioners

by TTMIYH



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Biting, Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Competition, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Groping, Hazing, M/M, Military, Military Backstory, Multi, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Pheromones, Piercings, Pool Sex, Rivalry, Sex, Size Difference, Tentabulges (Homestuck), Troll Anatomy, genital piercings, large penetration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-10 00:18:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18927466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TTMIYH/pseuds/TTMIYH
Summary: "Uhhhh...something ancestorstuck. Just what were things like before that upstart preacher started getting the lowbloods worked up? Anything that involves paperwork getting mussed up and generally disarrayed would be A plus."





	Her Favorite Executioners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oncewewerezombies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncewewerezombies/gifts).



It was rare that Her Imperious Condescension took a return trip to the homeworld, but when she did, it was  _notable_. The Empress herself, taking the time out of her very busy schedule of conquering and killing, in order to see how affairs were developing on her home planet, where she once trained and played all those sweeps ago. This once-in-a-midblood's-lifetime occasion was a mixture of planet-wide celebration and temporary hellscape gestation, preparing for military inspection. Everyone wanted to make sure things were in their best state for the visiting of the imperial fleet. Lowbloods cleaned as spick and span as physically possible, with all but the most rebellious on their best behavior. The higher up the food chain you got, the less you cleaned and restrained yourself, but even the violets got in on the action a little bit.

Her ship never docked properly - nothing on the planet was built to support it, but shuttles came and went to the flying fortress, taking bits and pieces to and from the world at large. Commanders scattered to their hometowns to conduct investigations, exfiltrations, and executions, new recruits were picked up from the most promising of trainees, and the "festivities" came and went with all the aplomb of a nuclear firework. Everything was abuzz, all the time, forever, or at least until the Battleship Condescension left once more in about a quarter of a sweep.

Horuss Zahhak was one of those new recruits. Not that he was particularly "new", though, since he was a spry and powerful sixteen sweeps old, but compared to the typical schedule for archeradicators, he was a couple of sweeps behind. There was, of course, a practical element to this, namely spending several sweeps developing strength dampening equipment that would actually allow him to wield a bow without snapping it into several pieces, along with other small trinkets and tools that would give him the upper edge on training. The other people had more experience by time, and Horuss wasn't a natural with a bow, but time and effort and a workbench made all the difference. In the three sweeps of his active training, weighing his options of deployment or remaining as a martial enforcer on the homeworld, he had surged past his fellows to become top of the class, so to speak, amongst the bowtrolls.

It was only natural that the best archer in the company was to take a visit to the Battleship Condescension.

What was not natural was to be taking that trip on a shuttle with the Grand Highblood himself.

Sure, there were hundreds of shuttles going in and out each month, and sure, he knew, on some level, that his training camp was geographically close to the Grand Highblood's camp of subjugglators (since the corpseorals all thought that being in the constant presence of Chucklevoodoos would help toughen them up. The legal spectators were still out on that one.), but putting two and two together was never easy until it stared you in the eye. Or didn't stare, as it were. The Grand Highblood was as imposing as he was discussed to be, about three heads taller than Horuss (who was already pretty tall himself), and maybe, if he had to put a number on it, about 35% wider just on shoulders alone. Basically, he could probably crush Horuss's head like a small wineberry if he really wanted to.

Unlike him, the Grand Highblood was not dressed for success, nor the occasion at hand. His clown slacks were dingy and dirt and blood-encrusted, his makeup was, frankly, a mess, and his eyes were sunshot, that bright red taint of someone who spent too long staying up late into the morning and let the light contaminate their living space. Or was about to kill someone. Horuss was no mediculler, so the exact nature of those bright red sclerae was beyond him, but he knew that he didn't want to look back up at it. To look into the eyes of someone with eyes like that was tantamount to staring at the sun, and Horuss didn't believe in superstition, but he did believe in bloodstains, of which the Grand Highblood possessed plenty. To look anywhere but there, Horuss watched the clouds zip by instead.

Bafflingly, it was just the two of them in a 10 person automated shuttle. It seemed that the Grand Highblood was equally baffled by this too, so he struck up a friendly conversation about it, drawing Horuss's attention away from the window he was so serenely staring at and towards his bared teeth. "Hey."

"Um. Good tidings, your clownishness. To what do I owe the honor?" Horuss nervously stammered out, taking a big gulp of air and steadying himself. If it came down to a fight, Horuss could take off his gloves and  _probably_ beat the High Subjugglator in a brawl. Possibly. Maybe.

Then, the Grand Highblood laughed, and Horuss got more concerned. "There's no need to act like you've got such a mighty stick up your most intimately defiled of anal cavities, brother. We're just two trolls here, having a friendly motherfuckin' conversation. What's got you in such a tizzy? Talk like a motherfuckin' normal person."

In his haste to not disrespect the Grand Highblood, Horuss only proceeded to inadvertently disrespect the Grand Highblood by becoming even more formal. "Apologies, Sir." He spouted, falling back on his old military training. "I'm quite nervous due to not knowing what we are being brought to the  _Battleship Condescension_ for, nor do I know why I am on a shuttle with the Highest and Holiest of Subjugglators, your mirthfulness. I will remove the stick posthaste."

Somehow, this made the Grand Highblood laugh, and Horuss breathed a little sigh of relief. It lasted up until the purpleblood got up from his extra-large seat, stretching his arms above his head and trundling his way over towards Horuss, bending down to let his arms come to rest on his knees so that they were at eye level. His horns were enormous, and it would take little effort to gouge one of Horuss's eyes out with them, he thought. "Like I motherfuckin' said... Stop talkin' like a fuckin' altar boy up on the coalbox. I'm not your commander. I'm just a motherfuckin' clown."

His breath was rancid. It smelled like glitter and violence. Horuss's fingers twitched on the emergency detach for all of his strength-dampening equipment. "My apologies, Mr. Grand Highblood. I'm afraid that I possess this approximate level of loquacity at all times of night, but I will attempt to relax my formalities at the very minimum, Sir. I mean, Mr. Grand Highblood. Fuck."

This brought another laugh, but this one was harder, rougher, somehow more genuine. The Grand Highblood reached a meaty, gut-squeezing hand out and ruffled Horuss's hair out of its tightly bound ponytail, letting it spray out all over his head, snapping the hairtie in two with two fingers. Horuss didn't move an inch.

"Well, for starters, how about you call me Kurloz? Beats "your clownishness", you motherfuckin' simpleton." He replied, standing back to his full height. Satisfied with the results of this little pep talk, he turned around, ambled back to his seat, and sat down hard enough to slightly tilt the shuttle before it corrected itself. "Do we have ourselves a motherfuckin' understandin'?"

"Yes, Kurloz, sir." Horuss replied, flexing his fingers into subtle fists.

* * *

The shuttle docked in the Battleship Condescension without issue, and amazingly (Horuss thought so), a scuffle didn't break out. Not that he had pitch feelings towards the Grand Highblood, but the man exuded an aura of pure menacing, the kind that you just knew he was about to snap any second and do something horrific and there wouldn't be anything you could do but roll over and take it.

The Battleship Condescension was massive, imposing, and lavish, like a traveling castle of the stars. A veritable platoon of helmsmen carried it throughout the universe, an impressive room that the Grand Highblood sent barkbeast whistles through when they got to that part of the tour. Their tour guide was very polite, and very violet, but that didn't stop Kurloz from attempting to stare them down on several occasions, while Horuss, who doubtlessly knew better, deferred to the tour guide's judgment. When the time came for questions, though, Horuss finally spoke up for the two of them.

"So... Why are we here again? Sir." He asked, and the violetblood responded with a charitable grin. What neither of the two had noticed until now was that the tour had taken them around the ship, across the various facilities, and directly to the Empress's throne room. Or its entrance, rather.

"The Empress has requested you two, specifically, due to your various... Skillsets. And performance metrics." The violetblood answered, stepping aside to allow the gold-plated door to hiss and slither open. Kurloz stepped through first, shouldering his way in like the brute he appeared to be, while Horuss, ever the man of refinement, checked his ponytail to make sure it was decent and then stepped in politely behind. The door hissed shut, and they were now stuck in the throne room with the Empress.

Kurloz approached first, a small chuckle beginning to bellow into uproarious laughter, expanding and contracting like a blood pusher until he was mere inches from leaping onto the Empress in her throne. Horuss didn't see when her bitrident was whipped out, only that it was, pressed up against the Grand Highblood's neck before Horuss even had the opportunity to unholster his bow. Silently, he let it fold back up and returned it to his belt.

"Back off, clownfish. Know ya fuckin' place."

Hmm.

She sounded much more articulate during broadcasts.

Kurloz slowly backed away, the tiniest jabs of those sharpened tines urging him into a one-kneed kneel at her feet. She pointed towards Horuss with her free hand. "You. Blue buoy. Git over here and kneel yer ass down, too."

Didn't need to tell him twice. Horuss took a little power-jog towards her and immediately got to kneeling, bowing his head politely, letting his ponytail fall over his right shoulder. Up this close and personal, the Empress was beautiful, even more beautiful than she appeared to be in those hazy schoolfeeds and occasional propaganda broadcast. Taller even than the Grand Highblood (which really got Horuss going), clear musculature under a layer of skintight imperial wetsuit, and all the jewelry, finery, and refinement befitting of a troll of her station. Horuss was struck by the overwhelming desire to kiss her feet and polish her horns, biting his tongue softly.

"To what do I owe the honors, my Empress?" Horuss asked, breaking the silence once she sat back down in her oversized throne (clearly with room for two, Horuss thought... Maybe three? No. Don't go there.)

"Yeah. What the bow boy said." Kurloz replied with a grin, earning a tiny jab for his subordination. 

"There'r some nasties bubblin' up on tha Outer Rim." She answered, matter-of-factly. Horuss almost wanted to cry out something about state secrets, but then caught himself. This was the Empress, you dummy. She could spill all the secrets she wanted, and her decision was final on the matter. "Some buggy boys givin' state-of-tha-art weaponry to those little violet shits trying to usurp our rim colonies. During a raid, they managed to get my personal Executor, and my Subjugglator General."

"So you need us to motherfuckin' replace them, yeah, chief?" Kurloz  interrupted, causing Horuss to silently curse his lack of decorum for the umpteenth time tonight.

"That's tha long and shore of it, yeah. You-" She said, pointing to Horuss, making his pusher get a little fluttery and warm. "have the best shot on the homeworld with a bow, and I  _only_ want homeworld buoys and gills with me for this. None of tha colonies make soldiers nearly as good. So yer tha best archeradicator-in-training on Alternia, which makes ya the best in the Empire. So you're gonna be my new Executor, is what's the deal."

Horuss almost started sobbing on the spot. To not only be recognized for his hard work despite his late start, but to personally be called the best archeradicator, the best shot in the entire empire? It was too late to hold back now, and the tears had silently begun flowing down his face, but he tried not to call attention to it. "Thank you, my Empress."

"As fer you..." She said mere instants after Horuss's mumbled thanks, jabbing a finger towards Kurloz. "Yer not tha best High Subjugglator in a generation like this blue fuck. But yer the most dangerous. Lemme ask ya - say I drop ya in a base with 50, 60 trolls, what're their odds?"

"Zero." Kurloz responded, gruff and stiff. Strong opposition to his previous drawls and groans and croons: this was curt and to the point. He didn't need any time at all to think of an answer. "Their odds are motherfuckin'  _zero_. I will kill every single one of those motherfuckers with my bare fuckin' mitts if I gotta."

"Mmm." Horuss couldn't help but hum. Kurloz shot him a sideways glance, but Horuss was still too busy riding his previous high to even care, although he did notice.

"Yeah, but we'll probably use yer chucklevoodoos when we can. You've got a gift too, kid. Not gonna waste it on brute force." The Empress responded, getting up with a shark-like grin. "If you couldn't guess, this ain't really an assignment ya can say no to. But yer free to try and I'll krill you on the spot if ya'd rather that."

"Of course not, my Empress. I wholeheartedly accept your proposal." Horuss said, deepening his kneel.

"Sure." Kurloz said, and that was that on his end of the bargain. The Empress ushered them both up with her bitrident, and her grin widened.

"Now, tell me. Do either of ya know tha proper way to consummate a military assignment of this caliber?" Horuss and Kurloz both looked at each other, sharing the same slightly nervous glance. Consummate? The Empress sighed. "Lacka respect for trafishin... Buncha wigglers, I swear."

Horuss bent his head at the neck, bowing politely towards her. "Would you mind explaining further, my Empress?"

"Yea, yea, yea.  _Trafishionally_ , the appointment a new positions this high up in tha hierarchy is consummated wit' a pailin' sesh with good ol Condy herself." She answered, and Horuss's jaw dropped, watching her walk by. She stopped a couple feet ahead of both of them and thumped her bitrident across the ground. "Get movin', dumbasses. Don'tchu wanna pail the fuckin'  _Empress_?" 

* * *

"Clothes. Out of 'em. Weapons gone." Her Imperious Condescension ordered as they walked into the Empress's preferred location of consummation. A massive pool, deep in the bowels of the ship, close to the Imaggo-Khrysa reactors and their associated venting units. Only a ship as big as the Battleship Condescension would have room for an entire swimming pool, especially one kept at such a lovely, sweat-inducing warmth. Horuss quickly and efficiently stripped out of his clothes, folding each piece politely in kind and forming a stack close to the corner of the room so that they wouldn't get messed up, and then pulled off the band keeping his ponytail together, letting his hair cascade over his shoulders.

Kurloz just pulled his shirt off over his head, shoved his pants down, tossed them aside, and waded into the water. Horuss tried not to watch, but with a body like  _that_ , it was impossible not to stare just a little bit. Horuss considered himself pretty reasonably well-learned about military tradition, even the maritime traditions that eventually filtered their way up into the space fleet, but this particular one was really something he had never heard of. He shrugged a little to himself, took his walk towards the pool, and slid in over the edge, the comfortably warm water washing over him. He dunked his head down, getting all of him, horns included, thoroughly damp, and leaned back into the wall, watching and waiting for the Empress to stop standing there, looking intimidating. His eyes flickered between the Empress, who was pretty much a perfect marble sculpture, and Kurloz, who was exactly his type.

Flickering up and down to Kurloz's wide-open, many-petaled nook. Comparing it mentally to Horuss's tightly closed, narrow slit, a tiny line of indigo amongst a mound of grey. Waiting to see the Empress's patiently.

Reaching back, she tapped something at the back of her neck, and her wetsuit slowly came off in thin, rubbery strips, collapsing into a pile by her feet as she stepped out of it. Down the little set of Empress-sized stairs, ignoring the railing, and walking slowly further and further into the deep end, while Kurloz and Horuss could only watch. She still had her bitrident with her, and she was flourishing it every so often, as if to remind Kurloz that it was there and practically made for usage underwater. Graciously, the Empress stopped before she completely submerged, leaving the top of her chest, her shoulders, and everything up exposed to the air, although the crystal clear water wasn't doing much to hide anything else.

She was taller than both of them - by Kurloz, a couple of centimeters, and by Horuss, a couple of centimeters plus about three of his own skull, horns not included in the equation. Like any seadweller, her dark grey skin was mottled up and down every inch with faintly luminescent fuchsia freckles, an array of gill slits fluttering open by her neck, and an array of bodily jewelry set in place. Horuss almost started drooling, but then remembered that he was the one with decorum here. Already, the big purpleblooded lummox was beginning to swim and wade his way towards the Empress.

So, when he got there, it was clear that Horuss was expecting a rebuff, or something of the sort, the lumbering oaf starting to hungrily attempt to kiss and nip at the Empress's neck. But, no, nothing whatsoever. Not even a cursory warning poke, the bitrident even passed off into the other hand. Kurloz's wet mane of hair parted for just a moment, and their eyes met. He smirked, and was promptly startled back to attention by a rough slap across the face. "I don't recall gifin you permission to start lookin' away from me." She told him, tossing her bitrident aside. Her head snapped towards Horuss, and he froze where he stood. "Water ya waitin fer? Get over here."

"I'm afraid the water is too deep for me to reasonably engage with you, Empress." Horuss replied, thinking that that was a perfectly reasonable response. When she barked back at him, he was somehow surprised.

"Oh, stop bein' such a wiggler about it. I'll hold ya up, alright, babe? Now get yer cute tush over here!" She said, and that was that. Equius was a perfectly fine swimmer, but for some reason, the thought that the Empress would be able to just hold him up just... hadn't occurred to him. He swam towards her, and she hooked an arm around his waist, hoisting him up, putting his face right on her shoulder, a perfect angle for her to sneer down at him at, her fins pressed up against her cheeks. "Get goin'." At that, Kurloz stopped with his nibbling and instead opened his jaw wider than any troll of any caste should reasonably be able to do. Horuss could see it happen in slow motion, almost about to come down on her shoulder joint, up until he received a second scorching slap. "Either ya bite like a normal person or ya don't bite at all."

Kurloz growled and sank his fangs into the Empress's chest, while Horuss, attempting to be a gentleman, instead lavished her with the kisses she was magnanimously deserving of. Neither of them could tell which ones had kicked a sigh out of her, while she floated lazily backwards, sitting down on a little crevice carved out of the pool wall precisely for this kind of arrangement. One hand held Horuss close, while the other was tangled in Kurloz's hair, keeping him and his teeth a reasonable, non-injurious distance away from her. Her legs floated up, a knee rather suddenly driving itself into Kurloz's crotch. When Horuss chuckled under his breath, Kurloz twitched sideways and immediately wrenched a hand out.

With his gloves off, Horuss grabbed Kurloz's finger and squeezed it. While his strength was freakish, both the Empress and Kurloz had many years of growth ahead of him (in the Empress's case -  _many_ ), but he could still hurt him. "Not now, Kurloz." Horuss said, glowering in his direction, before the Empress drove her knee up into Horuss's crotch, causing him to let out a grunt of pain. Kurloz burst out into loud, room-filling laughter, and for the first time, the Empress used her grip on his hair to tug him closer, not away.

Slowly but surely, the Empress's bulge unwound from its bright pink, open sheath. Her nook was surrounded by uncurling tendrils, most of them wide enough to look a bit like the fronds of a glowing fuchsia seaweed, but some of them thin and slender enough that they might've been confused for miniature bulges in their own right. An array of studs and rings were pierced through the flesh of her tentabulge, making Horuss cringe slightly sympathetically (and earning him some of her nails in his side in response to the unwelcome motion), but the Empress just let her head loll backward while it just kept coming... and coming... and coming...

By the time the finished bulk of her immense bulge had coiled around Kurloz's thigh and was prodding at Horuss's nook, Horuss realized just how much in he was over his head. The Empress creaked her eyes open to look appraisingly at the two of them, flicking her gaze back and forth.

"Subjugglator. In my lap. Executor, help me play with 'im" She commanded, stern and simple. Kurloz resisted the order, but several sharp tugs pulled him into his place, and Horuss let himself drift out into the water so that he could get a better understanding of what he was working with here. Dipping his head below the surface, he put his STRONG muscles to work by prying open Kurloz's legs. Kurloz resisted the prying. His back pressed up against the Empress's chest, his wrists were under her control, held tightly in her palms, pulled up and out of the water and held up over his head. The Empress's bulge slapped up against the High Subjugglator's stomach a couple of times, but with a little bit of coaxing with his mouth, Horuss helped it find what it was looking for - a bright purple, stickily drooling tentabulge about half its size, beginning to swim and curl around the Empress's bulge.

Horuss was content to simply watch from this angle as one of the most intimidating men on Alternia was completely cowed by the Empress, his bulge not nearly strong enough to win any sort of concupiscent wrestling. The Empress's dexterity was unbelievable for someone with such a heavy, gigantic tentacle, and slowly, it slid alongside Kurloz's bulge until forcefully pushing itself up into his nook. He let out a choked noise at the stretch, his own bulge trying (and failing) to coil backwards into the Empress's nook. It was long enough, but the position he was in was disadvantageous, so instead of a mutual hilting, it ended up just writhing around angrily, spurting and dripping purple into the water, quickly sucked up by the circulatory system of the pool and recycled out of it.

Watching the sinuous body of the Empress's bulge push itself up and into the Grand Highblood was an experience on its own, a thick writhe developing at the base and then working its way up and into him, picked up by his abs, working through his spine, and then ending with a flick of his neck and a grunt. Over and over and over again, a relentlessly slow pailing. "Play with 'im, blue boy. He's not gonna do anyfin funny now." She ordered, and Horuss was only too glad to obey, letting his hands drop out from between Kurloz's legs (while they tried to clench, they were out of energy, and wouldn't shut around a bulge that big anyway). Drifting towards the little crevice, Horuss barely managed to fit the edge of his hip on, which was really all of the space he needed. Reaching one hand out, he grabbed Kurloz's bulge by the base and begun to milk.

Kurloz let out a whine that was halfway between horny and angry, trying to kick his legs out or reach out with his hands or even bite with his weird snake jaw, anything at all that could make Horuss stop, but in the water, movement was sluggish, and the only tools he had on hand were currently being restrained by the Empress. Horuss's fingers squeezed just enough, squishing tender, tacky flesh between them, sliding his hands alongside Kurloz's winefruit-colored appendage, base to tip, with slow, simple motions that only seemed to aggravate Kurloz further.

Good.

Horuss bent down to kiss the tip of it, and then gave it as small of a bite as he could, feeling the first inch or so thrash up against his tongue and teeth before returning to his jerking. Even if he wanted to go faster, it wasn't like it was an easy thing to do in all the water. He supposed that Kurloz just had to be content with getting his nook stretched and pounded by the Empress. Honestly, Horuss didn't know why he looked so anguished and frustrated, even after the minutes of serpentine fucking mellowed the fury into a simmering heat.

When Kurloz started to cum, it was understated and amusing, at least from Horuss's view. His body started to jerk and twitch, unable to writhe or clench the way it normally did on land. It could spasm, of course, muscles tightening up while thick ropes of slurry shot out into the water in torrential waves, but his limbs couldn't move as fast as he needed them to in order to clench up. Kurloz made soft gagging sounds, sucking in air, unable to swallow, his hair piling back onto the Empress while he leaned backwards into her, his body starting to go slack. The most motion left in him was in his legs, pulling together and trying to squeeze the Empress's bulge up further into him - but she wasn't having any of it. Once Kurloz had finished his extensive orgasm, the Empress pulled him off her bulge, letting watery prefluid leak out and into the water, and hoisted him up and over the edge of the pool.

Horuss noted, silently and gleefully, that the Empress didn't appear to have deposited any slurry yet. He kept his face as neutral as possible.

"Yer turn, Executor. Highblood, when yer feelin' a lil' less subby, feel free to hop back in and rejoin us."

Horuss at least got the dignity of facing the Empress when he waddled over on his knees into her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair, and immediately dispensed any notion of gentleness when she pulled him against her collarbone with the same force she used to subdue Kurloz. She wound his hair up in her hands like one would wind cables, forcing him to look up at her, those piercing fuchsia eyes staring right through him.

Already, his nook was puffing out, his bulge (which had been half-sheathed) slowly rolling into prominence. Her tentabulge never left the scene, so once it glanced against the squishy material of another bulge, it quickly rolled around it and captured it in its muscular grip. Horuss's breath hitched in his throat as he felt the sheer power in everything she did - the way she pulled on him, the way her bulge seemed to be trying to outright crush his, even by accident, just by virtue of the size difference. Thoroughly embracing it, it curled into a loop, and Horuss tried not to shut his eyes.

"Hands above ya head, Executor. Yer gonna be a good lil' pail and listen to me, yea? No need ta force nofin?"

Horuss swallowed thickly, putting his hands above his head. She grabbed them by the wrists, using just one of her hands to do so, the other one tugging on Horuss's hair.

The sharpest of tugs came at just about the same time the tip of her bulge slithered its way up into him.

It was like nothing he had ever experienced before, both on a physical level, and somewhere, an emotional one. He had taken bulges before, some small, some big, but nothing on this scale - and more importantly, nothing from someone this high up. The hemocaste wasn't something that he rigidly adhered to, not a set of ironclad clockwork rules, but the Empress was the Empress. The highest possible authority, wanting him as her personal Executor, using his nook. It was a dazzling, sparkling sort of thrill that ran up his spine and into his think pan.

"Thass a good blue, just pike that..." She murmured in his ear, his body jerking, each roll of her hips and bulge accompanied by a similarly tight tug-and-release from Horuss's recently straightened hair. He bounced around at her touch and motion, his own bulge pressing against her stomach uselessly, kept pinned between them by mutual friction even through the water. Horuss's eyes squinted open and shut, unable to decide upon a final state, his hands suspended above his head. Slowly, his arms began to grow sore, despite the strong grip holding them up. For some reason, he doubted this little fact would afford him any particular clemency in the eyes of the Empress.

Horuss was in his own little world enough that he didn't notice Kurloz slipping back into the warm water until he had grabbed a hold of his shoulders. Pressing himself into Horuss's back, he reached around to grab hold of Horuss's bulge, beginning to grind his palm up into it. "You know what the fuck they say about turnabout and fair play, yea?" He loosely rhymed, a tired but ravenous little slurring right into Horuss's ears. Kurloz made a low, lewd noise, flicking his tongue out to run it up against Horuss's earlobe, causing Horuss to twist this way and that, unsure of the direction his body wanted to go - towards, or away?

Thankfully, the ability to choose was quickly relinquished from his means to directly control. The Empress decided "away", letting go of Horuss's hair and letting Kurloz pull him backwards, almost driving Horuss's head into the water, digging his nails into Horuss's scalp. Kurloz loomed like an eclipse of the sun over Horuss's face, blocking out the low-pitched, buzzing lights up above them, framing him in a halo of off-white and fuchsia and shadows. With their hair damp and slick like this, the differences in their hairstyles began to iron out. All three of them had veritable curtains, just of variable length.

Horuss let out a little gasp when Kurloz dunked him under the water for a fraction of a second. "Fish-bitch - How much can I fuck up the blue boy?" Kurloz asked. Horuss bucked his hips up in response, beginning to lose feeling in his legs while pressure built in his gut. His bulge was still flailing around in the water, occasionally skimming the surface of it and flicking upwards, scattering droplets across the surface, disturbing the relative calm. The Empress reached over, grabbed Kurloz by the horns, and yanked him close, squeezing Horuss in a delightful sandwich of flesh while his bulge began to twist and writhe and flick about more angrily than before.

"Next time ya call me that, I'm slittin ya throat." She announced to the two of them, smooth as silk and just as calm. It was a statement of fact, not a command, or a declaration of intent. The next time he called her that, she  _will_ slit his throat. It was that simple.

Then, Horuss interrupted the conversation with a timely orgasm, the tip of his bulge fishing itself out of the water at just the right time to loose a fair amount of slurry onto the Empress's chest. And then another. And, as it flicked backwards, another, this time onto Kurloz's face. Horuss bucked like an angry hoofbeast back and forth, trying to keep his cool with the fact that he just came on the chest of the Empress, quickly steeling himself for the incoming culling that he was doubtlessly about to receive. The Empress let go of Kurloz's locks, letting him fall back, and then let go of the two of them entirely, with a sinister little chuckle.

Horuss finished his climax lazily, almost casually, while the Empress cleaned herself off, slowly extricating her bulge from Horuss's stretched-out nook with a lovely, if uncomfortable, sensation that left him wanting for more. She didn't even seem to be close to finishing, while Horuss and Kurloz had both came just from being fucked (and a little stimulated otherwise). It was almost a little disappointing. Kurloz kept Horuss propped up so he didn't go underwater (smearing Horuss's indigo slurry against his own back in the process), slowly dragging him back to the shallow end where they could sit without going under, while the Empress cleaned herself off with a small, ornately patterned washcloth.

When she was finished, she sauntered over to the shallow end of the pool, her bulge sedately bundling itself up around her waist the best it could, although she still needed to use one hand to prop it up somewhere around the middle. She walked with the swagger and finesse of someone who had just more or less effortlessly fucked two apparently renowned trolls into submission. If anything, she seemed a bit  _bored_.

"Not bad, not bad. Yer not quite the starfish I was expectin' ya to be." She... complimented(?) "But not good eitha'."

"Does part of the tradition necessitate the Empress's finishing, or does it merely end when she's satisfied?" Horuss said, confident and shaky as he got up on his wobbly knees, thankful of the water for supporting some of his weight and the edge of the pool for supporting the rest of it. His bulge was slowly beginning to retreat, with Kurloz's already mostly sheathed, but his nook was still stretched out just a bit. It was easy to see such things when you had such a shy nook, as he did, but he would take another pounding should he have to. Horuss was nothing if not a man of duty, to the very end.

"Huh? Oh!" She said, cackling like a witch. "I totally lied. No such thing. Just wanted ta pail my two new favorite executioners, thas' all." She grinned, showing off her perfectly sharp, jagged teeth in a cholerbear-trap grin. 

Kurloz stared at her with a dour expression on his face, but Horuss just had to laugh. All of that, just to fit the Empress's concupiscent piques? Truly, she was something else. "What a lame fuckin' prank..." He grumbled, reaching down to gently rub at himself with his palm, likely soothing the sort of pain that came with an all-encompassing stretch. Horuss felt it too, that soreness, but the sense of emptiness along with it that ached to be filled once again by something just as majestic as before.

"Should I take that to assume that we'll likely be pailing on other occasions? Perhaps, at your whim, even?" Horuss asked, grinning shakily.

"'A course."

* * *

Sweeps passed. During long trips throughout hyperspace, there was little else to do but pail. In the lulls between wartimes, when papers needed filling, they were passed down to the lower ranks and the tables used for a better purpose. And sometimes, even when there were more pressing matters to attend to, they pailed anyway, like a trio of hoprats during the most voracious of spawning seasons. It wasn't exactly a hidden fact aboard the Battleship Condescension, the Empress and her Kismesis and her Matesprit and sometimes her Matesprit and her Kismesis (although that was a bit rarer, due to Kurloz's ornery nature towards authority figures, and figures in general). Being walked in on was a semi-regular occurrence, to the point that it became a sort of a rite of passage for new recruits from the training worlds by the edge of their assigned sectors.

Obviously, they thrived. You fought that much harder when you had something to protect, even if you weren't fighting defensively to begin with. Worlds fell. Small rebellions crushed (while a larger one was slowly brewing in the background, unbeknownst to the trio), colonies thrashed into line, lowbloods subjugglated. Traitors executed.

Horuss had grown into a stately troll of 56 sweeps, closing a bit of the height gap between them, and the width gap, too. Wartime was a far different beast than training, and he got more usage out of his bow in the first half-sweep of his official duties than in his three sweeps of training. It did a body good, and at this point, Horuss could pretty reliably take Kurloz in a fight, something they did enthusiastically, and often. On occasion, they ended up pailing after a wrestling-induced interlude, but it was even more occasional than their interludes with the Empress. Nominally, it was frowned upon, but as the Empress's right-hand trolls, they could really do whatever they wanted and nobody could call them out on it. Kurloz had the upper hand in sheer mass and weight, and had honed his chucklevoodoos enough that they could even slip into Horuss's cracks if he let his guard down.

Horuss always thought of himself as an engineer and an intellectual, but, interestingly, Kurloz ended up more often than not being the one to devise strategies and tactics. Much different than the lumbering brute he had thought he met on that first day, Kurloz actually turned out to have a finely tuned mind for war and literature, one that would've languished until atrophy in the tents of Alternia. The brains to Horuss's brawn. They could wipe out installations together without the Empress needing to lift a finger, or send any other troops. On several occasions, they had done just that.

But today, in particular, was an eve of celebration. Another rebellion crushed underfoot, another planet plundered, and those two facts combined led to only one rational conclusion for Meenah and her partners.

It was time to ruin someone's desk.

Even a battleship had clerical offices and filing cabinets and shit to do, but when the Empress shows up with her two executioners in tow and tells the yellowblood in charge to get out, that their room has been "requisitioned" for official use, you got out. "Well, buoys?" She asked, letting the doors hiss shut behind them. This desk looked sturdy, but it wasn't as if they hadn't broken a sturdy desk before. She swished and hipped her way over to the chair, sized for someone about half her size, sat it in, and felt it begin to buckle beneath her, struggling to contain a ????-sweep old fuchsiablood's mass. So, she kicked it away, watching it scoot and slide on its wheels, before sitting on the most stable looking part of the desk, tapping the back side of her neck and letting her wetsuit begin to fall off in strips.

Kurloz and Horuss both knew an invitation when they saw one.

Horuss took off his uniform, tight and practical and emblazoned with fuchsia and gold and indigo, and folded each component as neatly as he could, setting them by the door.

Kurloz pretty much ripped his clothes off of him, tearing a new hole in his shirt in a misguided attempt to get it up and over his head in one motion, for some reason that only made sense to him. Eventually, it came loose, and Meenah stared back and forth between the two of them, spreading her legs enough to tousle some paper, prying her nook open with two fingers. "Who first, who first..." She fake-murmured, more than loud enough for the two of them to hear. Obviously, making a definitive statement on the matter would lead to the opposite of your decision being picked, because Meenah was a bit capricious like that, except when she wasn't, which was rare but not rare enough that it wasn't worth compensating for. Amusingly, the only correct move was to wait until the other party got too horny to avoid saying anything.

Unfortunately, Kurloz had gotten far better at Horuss than this. His hands found purchase on Horuss's skin, his tongue running lasciviously up Horuss's side, a rough, wet thing that Horuss had grown all too accustomed to having against his skin. It was really a surefire way to turn him on, as he had discovered, Kurloz's hands finding little resistance in groping Horuss's nook on one side, and his asscheek on the other. He pulled his face up from beneath Horuss's arm, beginning to drag his teeth against Horuss's skin, before ending the lewd, long lick at his neck, grazing his teeth over a spot that could kill if he wanted it to. But that would upset Meenah, and neither one of them wanted that.

"Look at him, Peixes. He's squirmin' like a wiggler in front of a drone. I'm inclined to believe that he, in fact, motherfuckin' wants some." Kurloz elaborated, looking up at Meenah with half-lidded eyes. He squeezed Horuss's nook a little harder, and the ramrod-still archeradicator stifled a groan, although he had to gnaw on his lip a little to stop it from passing all the way out of his throat as anything more than a huff of air. Slowly, his bulge began to unwind itself from its sheath, and shyly snapped around Kurloz's all-too-familiar hand and wrist. "What a cute little thing." Kurloz taunted, using his grip to pull Horuss close enough to kiss, catching Horuss's lower lip with his teeth and drawing just a tiny enough pinprick of blood to excite.

Horuss had gotten better at maintaining his composure, but not better than Kurloz was getting at ruining it. When he tried to sound cool and collected, with as dry a line as "I b-believe the opposite is occurring, considering Kurloz's ffffff-" He started, breaking into a hiss when Kurloz's hand squeezed the base of his bulge, the tip flicking out and then curling in a little bit. His nails dug in, just a touch, and Horuss tried to finish his statement with his eyes clenched shut. "-ffffffffpropensity towards agitation. The needier he can make me look," Horuss continued, Kurloz watching with amusement as he struggled to maintain words and coherence, "the more likely it is that you'll avoid me in order to tuh-tease further, ffffiddlesticks--"

Kurloz purred softly, kissing Horuss's neck and pushing him further up back against the wall, not minding the thin slick that was dripping down his forearm. Kurloz curled his middle finger upwards, finding just the right spot and then pushing it up into Horuss's nook, causing the Executor to whine loudly like a sputtering machine, a low-to-high sweeping sound when the tip of Kurloz's finger found a spot with a thin separation between Horuss's nook and the very bottom of his bulge, still buried (and forever buried) inside his sheath. Kurloz gave him a small peck on the lips and then drove his fingers further, adding his pointer finger into the mix shortly thereafter, Horuss's bulge tightly attempting to strangle his other hand. It didn't even seem to bother him in the slightest.

Kurloz had all the control here, and for someone as notoriously meticulous in their affairs as Horuss, this was anathema, but also  _incredibly_ arousing. Kurloz pulled his free hand back, tugging Horuss's pelvis along with it with light pressure on his bulge. Horuss cracked his eyes open just enough to see the Empress getting herself ready on the desk, as best as he could see with Kurloz in the way. Her bulge was still the same as it was that first time. A statistical improbability of immensity, dotted with pierced studs bumping out from beneath the surface. Kurloz pulled his fingers free of Horuss's nook and jammed them into the blueblood's mouth, using his other fingers to grab a grip of the handle that was Horuss's face, cranking his head sideways. "You think you're real fuckin' smart, don't you? Mister motherfuckin' multisyllabic loquacity, reverse psychology sagacity?" Kurloz rolled, plucking the rhymes off his tongue with no thought whatsoever. Horuss tried to come up with an effective response with as many archery-related puns as he could think of, but then remembered that his mouth was full of fingers.

And his own lubricant fluid. Couldn't forget that.

"Pointing out subtextual veracity still's a fuckin' mendacity, you've got the opacity of a pane of glass, I can see." He finished, and plucked his fingers from Horuss's mouth. Still wet with saliva, he grabbed a handful of Horuss's hair and quickly pulled his other hand out from its position as an object of gripping for Horuss's bulge to be magnetically attracted to. He shook a couple of droplets free and looked at Meenah expectantly. She grinned with that same razor-sharp grin she always wore when she was in a good mood.

"I sea someone's been doin' their book readin's. Who got the big buoy a theseaurus?" Meenah teased, before flinging a paper airplane towards Kurloz. It sailed and spun and twirled, before bonking on his forehead, the tip crumpling up and sending it hurtling towards the ground. Horuss couldn't help but take a peek - something about rustblood transfusion requisitions for the infirmary, so it could be safely ignored and stepped on underfoot, as Kurloz was so glad to demonstrate. 

"You got a motherfuckin' problem with me bonin' up on my big words?" Kurloz boasted, letting go of Horuss for a moment to step forward as threateningly as he could without exuding the "I'm going to kill you" aura that he often generated, sometimes unaware. It took actual effort on his part to find a nice moderate point between neutral and murder, and no matter what he was actually giving off, those red eyes always screamed murder to most people that bothered to look him in the face.

"Nah, I just think it's cute, thas' all. Like a lil' wiggler tryna impress his lusus." Meenah taunted, and then shot her finger out towards Horuss. "Blue boy. Ova' here." Horuss wasn't toyed with to the point of shakiness yet, but the excitement made him wobble and shake nonetheless as he approached the Empress. She grabbed his head and forced him right down between her legs, fitting some of him underneath the desk. Horuss's eyes flicked to the side, and he stopped himself from smirking with schadenfreude.

"Clown boy, ova' here." Meenah said right after, her hands pushing Horuss down further than he intended to go until her bulge lay completely over top of his head, a heavy, tacky weight that dripped cool stickiness down his back. Kurloz did as he was told, even if he looked a bit pissed about it, getting right behind Horuss. He couldn't see her hands, but Horuss figured that she was similarly putting him and pulling him into position, the same way she had done so with Horuss, judging by the way that Kurloz's knees pressed into Horuss's rear, his arms reaching around to grip Horuss's sides. "Aiight, eat." She ordered, clasping her legs around the two of them the best she could, hooking her ankles presumably behind Kurloz's head, if his sudden forward motion was any indication of such things.

The first time they had pailed, in the pool, Horuss hadn't quite learned to appreciate all the subtle nuances to Meenah's body. In particular, one thing that was easily disguised as nothing at all in the warm water was the presence of her almighty fuchsia pheromones, lingering en masse from anywhere near her nook or bulge, and pretty much irresistible when she decided to take her junk out of her wetsuit. Horuss considered himself a reasonably strong-willed troll, and even his body could barely fight against its lure. One lungful, and his bulge began thrashing about underneath the desk, flicking little droplets of blue every which way in a wild attempt to shove itself inside the closest nook-shaped object. Unfortunately, there was none of that to be found, but that didn't mean it would stop trying.

Horuss's tongue dug in where it could while he listened to Kurloz's muffled grumbled glukking sounds. Somehow, the thought of going for both of them just hadn't really occurred to Horuss as even a possibility, but it was a delightful surprise nonetheless. The Empress's legs around his head, her hand in his hair, Kurloz's cool body pressed against his backside. The feeling of abs against skin and claws against hips made Horuss buck up into nothing, while his tongue flicked out, allowing the Empress's grabby, needy nook-tendrils to reach out for him.

From his many studies in fuchsia anatomy, Horuss had since concluded that they (like bulges) were mostly independently structured, with their own vestigial nervous systems that let them react to outside stimuli without needing any of the Empress's brainpower to be wasted on it. He wasn't a mediculler, but he did know his anatomy (in a military context, but still), and it didn't take a large leap of logic to assume that they reacted to body heat and touch. With a tongue nearby, it was only natural that the smaller tendrils would coil and curl around it, trying to pull it deeper in, confusing it for Horuss's bulge, poor little guys.

Horuss let himself be drawn forward until his nose was buried right beneath Meenah's bulge, his forehead pressed into the underside. It wasn't a huge deal, considering that showers were freely available, and messes tended to be made regardless of circumstances. Horuss reached back with one hand, curling it behind him and facing his palm out so that he could begin fingering Kurloz, while the other hand reached up to let a handful of tiny feelers in Meenah's nook encircle his pointer finger. Kurloz responded with a grunt and a squeeze, digging his claws in just a touch, before reaching around to grab Horuss's bulge with one hand. Occasionally, Horuss felt the other hand stroking Meenah's length brush through his hair, just by the circumstantial motion of fingers and arms.

Moans trickled from Horuss's enraptured tongue into Meenah's nook, tilting his head up so that he could pry his mouth loose from its captivating invaders and run his tongue along the underside of her bulge while his hand curled up into her. Coordinating all these flailing limbs and hungry mouths was difficult enough without the mind-melting haze of Meenah's pheromone scent making Horuss squirm with delight and discomfort, Kurloz's hand working far too lightly to satisfy him. So, if Kurloz was going to tease him, then it would only be fair play to have Horuss tease him back, just running the tips of his fingers along the entrance to Kurloz's nook. Horuss hooked his tongue near one of the studs in Meenah's bulge and pressed against it, in the way he knew she liked. If it wasn't obvious from her unmuffled noises of adoration, the clenching of her legs and the sudden grunt of surprise from Kurloz would've been more than enough to inform him of his correct decision. Little droplets of preslurry ran down the underside of her bulge and dripped down onto his tongue, brackish and sweet, collecting like condensation on a cold bottle of water until it fell.

Horuss jumped a little bit when a sweeping arm brought stacks of paper down into his lap. Without the time or concentration to swat them away, he just let them collect on him and get covered in stickiness, listening for the telltale sign of Meenah  _flump_ ing backward onto the desk. There was the sound, yes, but also the change in posture for her legs, elevated slightly higher than before. Her voice was always a contralto growl, but with his fingers pushing in and out of her, Kurloz's mouth and Horuss's mouth combining stimulation, tongues and drool, her keening and growling was getting higher and higher while she got breathier and breathier.

No room for breaks for Horuss. His mouth was well trained, as was the muscle inside of it, and even with the barrage of sensory delights such as Kurloz's impatient hand ghosting along his bulge, he still kept his eyes on the prize, so to speak. His tongue brushed up at the very base of the Empress's bulge, right at the stretched-open sheath, while his fingers, buried knuckle-deep inside of her, pressed their tips up against the top of her nook's interior, rubbing and massaging all the sensitive spots that he had memorized (she had many). Kurloz tried to make some kind of noise, but judging from his level of gagging, he was probably pretty busy at the moment. Horuss decided to shove his fingers into Kurloz's nook, index and middle, beginning to finger him as quickly as his coordination would allow.

Just to fuck with him a little bit.

"Cod  _damn_ y'all never stop bein' good at this--" Meenah cried out, pressing her thighs together as if she was trying to crush Horuss with them. Horuss went deeper, rougher, with both hands and his tongue, the tendrils of Meenah's nook grabbing for his wrists, trying to pull him even further in. When she started complimenting them, that was when she was close. "Good buoys, good buoys, good buuuuuOOOAH-"

When she started clenching up, Horuss quickly pulled his hand away from Kurloz's nook, feeling it glance against an unwound bulge of the purple variety, and grabbed for Kurloz's back the best he could, twisting sideways just to get a better grip without compromising his face's position between Meenah's legs. He pulled him close with as much strength as he could muster, and the wet sounds that followed from both ends brought him no end of amusement. Her nook closed up tightly around his fingers, thinking they were a bulge with slurry to be protected, while her bulge swelled at the base before beginning to dump its load down Kurloz's throat. He sputtered and spat and hacked, roiling tides of pink splattering across his chest, and when she pulled out of him, it was like a firehose had gone off, shooting three more massive shots towards the two trolls beneath her, and thoroughly ruining any papers left on the floor. Her nook drooled out lubricant fluid left unused, dropping and dripping all along Horuss's bulge, while the Executor leaned backwards into Kurloz's sticky chest, twisting around only once he successfully removed his fingers from Meenah's nook.

"Cod... What a buncha sluts..." She wheezed, pleased immensely with herself and her two partners, judging from her tone. A few sharp, nibbling kisses, and then a little kick from Meenah's feet to get their attention. "'Ay. You two. We ain't done yet. One 'a ya' betta make sure I'm not empty in tha next five minnowts or we're gonna have a reel big problem."

Horuss stood up, body shaking after its fresh coat of cool fuchsia paint slid down slowly, and grabbed Meenah's left leg, pulling it apart. Kurloz got up slower, wiping his chin and lips, but did the same in short order.

Squeezing the best they could into place, Horuss got up on the desk, letting it creak under their combined weight, while Kurloz grabbed his thighs and let his bulge lash out underneath Horuss's body to poke and prod at Meenah's nook.

"Ooh, did ya' remember tha' powa of teamwork or somefin? C'mon, stuff me already!"


End file.
